


sentimental | one-shots collection |

by ni_irdina



Category: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds (US TV), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fan-fiction, First fan-fic, One-Shots, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 04:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ni_irdina/pseuds/ni_irdina
Summary: I’m feeling sentimental, I’m feeling sentimentalWithout you, my room is empty, I’m feeling sentimentalJonghyun,Sentimental





	1. αℓρнαвєтι¢αℓ ιи∂єχ

**S for SIGN ME UP**

1\. SPENCER REID — [Eidetic Recipe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068663/chapters/50158868)

2\. STEPHEN STRANGE — [(<strike>Not So</strike>) Awkward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068663/chapters/50121533)

* * *


	2. (ɴᴏᴛ sᴏ) ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅ — sᴛᴇᴘʜᴇɴ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by my ∂αяℓιиg fяιєи∂!  
  

> 
> Stephen Strange encounters another person who dwells in his current forté and being his egotistical self, he judged a book by its cover.
> 
>   


He stares out of the sanctum’s window at the sight of New York, the place he’s sworn himself into protecting from anything dangerous and, being the Sorcerer Supreme, he believes that it’s his _biggest_ responsibility. His cape lifts the cup of tea for him and without thank, he sips the tea but because of not _thanking_, the cape purposely pours the tea all over him and he winces in pain from the hotness of the tea.

Stephen clicks his tongue and the cape pulls away from him, feeling guilty. Although unable to make a noise to emphasise its guilt, Stephen understands the semi-sentient being’s sorry. “Don’t do it again,” He advises, grabbing a cloth from his desk and dabbing it on his article of clothing so that it wouldn’t burn his skin. The cape follows him as he descends the stairs and it takes double the sight of realising a newcomer’s figure. 

Looking confused and distraught, the figure holds a crumpled paper in her hands, and she keeps looking up and down; as if she’s done something wrong. Silently studying her [apparel](https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/1017796), she seemed like a commoner — a white top under a denim jumpsuit, which is topped by her pastel green trench coat and her low-heeled ankle boots (aside from her assortment of accessories). 

“Can I help you?” He breaks the silence, amidst her mumbling confusion.

The unknown female looks up, surprised at Stephen’s voice.  
“Jesus-” She sets her hand on her chest, soothing her pacing heart. “Don’t scare a witch like that!” 

“A witch?” Furthers confusing Stephen, as he descends the stairs. “Which sanctum are you from?”

“The London sanctum. I… somehow found myself here?” The witch says, scratching her hair. 

“You call yourself a witch yet you _can’t_ find yourself back home?” Stephen scoffs, not meaning to sound egotistic about his abilities, but with the knowledge _personally_ given by the Ancient One, he feels like he’s the best out of all the wizards and witches in this world. “Who did you train with? I bet he’s not as good as the Ancient One,” 

“[Y/N]!” Cries Wong, running down the stairs. 

[Y/N] scoffs, hugging Wong. “I trained with him,” 

Stephen bites his tongue, clearing his throat. “You didn’t tell me that we were expecting visitors,” Says Stephen, avoiding the awkward-prone subject to be hit in his face. “I could’ve prepared us some tea,”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, we’re going for lunch together,” Wong wraps one arm around [y/n]’s shoulders and smiles. “We’re going for shwarma. You want any?” 

“No… thanks… I’m good,” Stephen feels like hiding away while [y/n] broke a grin to tease him. Whilst turning around to return to his private space, his cape pats his back, and Stephen groans quietly.


	3. ᴇɪᴅᴇᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄɪᴘᴇ — sᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Person A (You) and Person B (Spencer Reid) is cooking something without the recipe because Person B is confident they know how to cook it from memory. 
> 
>   


* * *

Returning home from a hard day’s work, Dr Spencer Reid, a Special Agent at the BAU, shrugs off his coat and hangs it and pulls off his shoes, tucking them to the side of the wall (where other shoes are, too) and he walks further into his apartment, letting go of his messenger bag onto the surface of the couch. He can’t help but hear the soft melody of music coming from the kitchen; something lo-fi, a taste belonging to his wife, who is an avid listener, [y/n]. 

He smiles. 

“I’m home,” He speaks in a normal voice, amidst the powerful song that doesn’t overpower or overwhelm his vocal cords. He watches his wife turn around with a recipe book in her hands, a gift he had given her for their wedding (retrieving it with an offence is a secret to herself). “You’re planning on cooking today? I thought it was my turn,” He smiles, planting a kiss against the crown of her forehead. 

“I just wanted to make it special,” [y/n] blushes, despite his kisses being a norm in this household. “I have a surprise for you and I want you to _swear_ not to freak out, okay? Because _I_ solely think that you are fit for this job,” She places the book down and hangs her arms around his shoulders, watching his glimmering eyes shine back into hers. “Do you know how you hate kids?”

“I don’t _hate_ per se, but statistically speaking—” His jaw drops. “_You’re pregnant_?” 

[y/n]’s lower lip bit, she smiles widely and nods. 

“Oh! Wow! Um, yay to us?” Spencer, not knowing how to react as this kind of occasion has never been registered into his system. “H-How do I react, again…?”

[y/n] giggles. “You can just say congratulations to us because we made a baby _and_ you’ve got two babies to take care of in the future,” She pecks him on the nose before returning to the recipe book. “Now, why don’t you sit back and relax while I cook? I’ll make sure I add in _salt_, unlike last time,” 

Spencer panics, holding back his wife. “No, no! Let _me_ cook. I can’t let my wife and my unborn child be near a fire,” He shakes his head. “And before you can say anything, I want to cook to celebrate, okay? Now, why don’t _you_ sit back and relax? We- I mean, _I_, don’t need this book,” He shuts the object and sets it aside. “Now, let’s see; your favourite food is pasta, _particularly_ bolognese, so this should be easy, right?”

His wife sits down at the circular dining table they have, smiling. “But do you remember the spices that are added into the recipe? It’s my family recipe, remember.”

“[y/n], not to sound boastful, but I have an eidetic memory,” He smiles, pulling out assortments of spices and a jar of liquified tomatoes. “I know your family recipe requires us to do our own sauce, but I’m pretty sure we’re lazy on that, aren’t we?”

“You know me well, Dr Reid,” [y/n] smiles. “Or should I say, _Chef_ Reid?” 

“Chef Dr Reid? Is that qualified?” He smiles, pulling out the pot from the cabinet and placing it on top of the stove. “Now, do we have onions and garlic?” 

“You’ll have to see about that, Chef Dr Reid,” She smiles, standing up when she gets a call from her phone. “I have to answer this, it’s the office,” [y/n] kisses Spencer’s cheek before excusing herself to their bedroom. “Agent [l/n],” 

“_How’s your vacation days going, [y/n]?_” Asks Agent Hotchner, your boss, equally to Spencer as well. “_Have you told him yet?_”

“Yes, I did, and thanks for motivating me to not panic,” She smiles, sitting on their bed. “He didn’t panic _at all_. Aside from malfunctioning for a second, everything went to plan. He guessed it even before I could say it,” 

Agent Hotchner chuckles on the other end of the line. “_It’s simply Reid, isn’t it?_” You share a continuous chuckle with him. “_Congrats. We’re so happy that you guys are having a baby, and _don’t_ name them Gideon, at whatever cost, okay?_” 

“Gideon will forever be in our heart, why _not_ name our child Gideon?” [y/n] chuckles. “Anyways, thanks for checking up on me, boss. Reid’s currently cooking, so I’m scared that he’ll burn himself, let alone the pan,” You smile, ending the call. You open the door to the bedroom and instantly sniff something unfamiliar and _burnt_. “Reid…? Are you okay in the kitchen?” 

A squeal of panic sends reflex waves to you as you run into the kitchen, seeing how he had managed to set the pot on fire. You grab the pot by the handle and toss it into the sink, putting out the flames under water. Reid exhales relief, patting his chest. 

“I guess… pizza night’s suffice?” 

“Yes, _please_,” Reid chuckles in embarrassment. 


End file.
